Goodbye
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Oneshot. Post-Reichenbach Fall. He can't stand it anymore. "I miss you." No pairings intended.


**Author's Note: Blah, this is a really pointless fic - just my attempt to get out the feels after the last time I watched Reichenbach Fall. I don't think this sounds like something John and Sherlock would say, nor does it sound like something they would even _think,_ but maybe it's putting into words what they _feel._ Or maybe I'm just completely OOC, I dunno :P**

"_The stuff that you wanted to say...but didn't say it."_

"_Yeah..."_

"_Say it now."_

_from "The Reichenbach Fall"_

I miss you.

I miss the rush of adrenaline as we chase down criminals together. The excitement of a new adventure, a new lead, fraught with danger but full of _purpose._ The feeling that there's a definite direction my life is heading, that there's a solution to everything. If I just think long enough, if I just put Sherlock Holmes on the case, we'll find the answer sooner or later.

Now everything seems so _pointless._ Empty. Sluggish. Everywhere I turn, I only run into brick walls, questions with no answers at all. I don't know what to do anymore. Nor why I should care.

I miss giggling at crime scenes, being able to laugh at things that no one should find funny. I miss knowing that it's grossly inappropriate – but not caring in the slightest. I miss your deep chuckle, the way you smirk at me to share one of those private jokes that no one else will understand.

I miss your temper tantrums – and yes, they're tantrums; there's no other word for it. Sometimes you get in these moods where the slightest thing can set you off, like an irritable toddler who needs a nap. Something goes wrong, or you get bored, and you stomp around and shoot holes in the wall. And then you get moody and play your violin endlessly, sometimes playing a Bach partita and sometimes screeching away like you'd never had a lesson in your life. Life seems so dull and quiet now, without any of that.

Yes, I even miss your arrogance and the way you tromp all over everyone's feelings without the slightest regard. That's why you tend to make so many enemies, but I can see behind it, and I know the man you really are. Insecure, uncertain, carrying the weight of a thousand rejections, the only way you know to protect yourself is to push everyone away. But you never pushed me away, no matter how hard you may have tried.

You tried it one last time on that rooftop. I realize what you were doing now – now, months later, when it's far too late. You tried to push me away again, make me hate you, make me believe that you betrayed me, so I wouldn't be hurt when you died.

How could you think it wouldn't hurt, you imbecile? Don't you know me better than that? Couldn't you deduce that about me after all this time? This is the only evidence that could possibly convince me you're not the genius everyone thought you were, because you would have to be a _moron_ to believe I would stop caring even if you _had_ lied to me.

I don't know why you died. And I think it's my fault. Somehow, I should have made you realize that I would believe you even if the rest of the world didn't, no matter what sort of "evidence" they could come up with. I may not be smart enough to puzzle it out myself, but I know you.

I _know_ you.

And now there is no one in the entire world who can look at me and immediately know what I'm thinking, what I need. I am alone. Again. I'd forgotten how this felt, this emptiness, this hopelessness. People look at me, they smile and chat, but I don't know why I should care about them. There will never be another person like you, and somehow that makes every other acquaintance feel shallow and dry.

Was the world always this washed-out? I want the colors back. I want this heavy weight to leave my chest once and for all. I want to smile again.

Goodbye, Sherlock.

* * *

I miss you.

It's so pointless and illogical, but then...we all do silly things. Even though I have plenty to occupy my mind, have certain eyes watching you at all times, and observe you from a distance myself whenever I can manage it. I suppose it's just not the same when you don't even know I'm still alive.

I find myself talking to you still, every now and then, until I realize that you're not there. The room is empty, and I'm alone. Again.

I told you, the first time we met, that I wanted you to join me so I could have someone to talk to other than my skull. You did realize that was a lie, didn't you? It's not enough to have something to think aloud to, nor even someone who actually values the brilliance of my intelligence. I don't think I even realized what it was I wanted, and once I had it I valued it far too little.

I wanted someone who was different from all the rest, someone who wasn't _boring_ and _predictable._ Oh, certainly, you have plenty of qualities about you that are so _frightfully_ dull it's a wonder you've never realized how ordinary you are. But there was one thing that set you apart from everyone else I've ever met, and that makes you the most extraordinary man I've ever met.

You accepted me.

When we first met, there was confusion in your eyes, of course, but there was none of the affronted bluster I've grown so accustomed to. Nor the mocking assumption that I was performing some sort of magic trick. No, you simply absorbed who I am...and accepted me, no more questions asked.

I've never had a friend before. Not a real one, anyway. It feels...safe, knowing that you won't get fed up and leave. I can just be myself, and I won't lose you. I'm not used to feeling safe.

I suppose that's why it was so hard to get the words out that day. I thought you would believe me when I told you I was a fraud. To protect you, I had to tear apart the one friendship I had ever managed to keep. But there was no other choice. Friends protect each other, don't they?

But I should have realized even my best efforts wouldn't work with you. I ought to know you better after all this time. Of course you would still believe in me. That's just the way you are. You can always see right through me. So I still felt safe, in the very moment I thought I had lost everything.

Don't make me lose everything. I will never be really, truly alone again as long as you're still alive somewhere.

Don't say goodbye.


End file.
